When In Doubt, Stupefy
by ISolemenlySwearImUpToNoGood
Summary: Victoire was always better than her younger sister, Dom. Whether it was looks or brains, she was always a Veela's favorite. When Dominique decides to make her seven years at Hogwarts the most worthwhile, she didn't think it'd be this hard. Add with a Weasley-Potter clan, making out with Slytherins, crushes, and puberty, you can bet your House Elf it'll be the most craziest.
1. First Year I: First Year Jitters

Disclaimer: OC Alexander Wood is mine. Rest is JK Rowling's, including Potterverse.

**Title: ****_When In Doubt, Stupefy_**

* * *

**Summary: **_Victoire was always 1+ to Dominque. Dominique makes it her goal to make her seven years the best years of her life, whether it's stupefying teachers, skinnydipping in the Black Lake, or kissing Slytherins. _

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**When in Doubt, Stupefy **

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_**Chapter One: First Year's Jitters **_

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I always trusted the Sorting Hat's judgment. After all, Professor Longbottom was in Gryffindor. Victoire was in Gryffindor, too. So I knew I'd be in Gryffindor. Dad was. Mum was in Beauxbatons, but she was very brave.

So, when McGonagall—Headmistress, a woman who wouldn't let go of her position to read the names off the scroll and jam the hat on the first years' head—called, **_Dominque Weasley, _**and the Sorting Hat immediately said "GRYFFINDOR" I panicked.

McGonagall moved to remove it, but I snatched it back on.

There were whispers and a few snickers—especially from the Hufflepuff table. I tried not to redden.

"This can't be true," I had muttered as the Sorting Hat whispered in my head.

_"You are destined for Gryffindor," _The Hat said. _"And once I say it, it's bounded. You are a Gryffindor. Now, go ahead and sit—"_

McGonagall pursed her lips and yanked it off, but I stood and snatched it back on, not caring if I was getting expelled.

**_"B—But I'm a Ravenclaw," _**I thought impatiently, **_"Now undo that little bind. D—Dad—Mum, Victoire… they all said I was a 'Claw! Now, sort me back in! I don't care just because I'm a Weasley—Don't sort me because of my family!"_**

The Sorting Hat said nothing. I wanted to cry. I glanced over at the Ravenclaw table, who looked a bit sympathetic, though a few were sniggering.

McGonagall yanked it off, a bit furiously, glaring at me. I slowly sloped to the Gryffindor table. They were clapping, glad to have another Weasley on board.

But _I _wasn't.

* * *

"_No_, Miss Weasley!" McGonagall snapped feverishly as I pleaded for her to jam the Sorting Hat for me.

"Minnie—"

"I'm Professor McGonagall to you."

"—It's made a wrong decision—"

"The Hat never lies!"

"—It sorts too early—"

"It's a magical binding, the Hat called it, you're in it—"

"It's Sorting me by my blood, honestly—"

"Oh, another Weasley," a sneer said. I glanced up, only to find Professor Snape's portrait staring down at me.

"Since when did you have a portrait?" I asked, though warming up.

"Every Headmaster or Headmistress is bound to have one. Once they are announced Headmaster or Headmistress, they are to be painted. It is, rather unfortunate that I'm next Dumbledore. He keeps on going on about Lemon Drops and how he longs to taste them."

I smiled at him, wanting to inform him that Uncle Harry has named a child after him, but decided against it—he'll see when Al attends Hogwarts.

"I advise that you go back to your dormitories. It's a bright, Saturday morning."

I sighed, defeated. I glared at the Hat, trying not to chuck it out a window or in the Black Lake, and walked sorrowfully back to the girls' dorms. I collapsed on the bed, trying not to sob; if only the Hat saw that I was smart. Hell, I'm a Slytherin, too—**_why can't I be anywhere but Gryffindor? _**

* * *

Victoire was, luckily, a Gryffindor. She was the only sibling I had that was there. Teddy, I suppose, was our family, too.

Teddy was a Hufflepuff, so we didn't get to see him much. I usually was trying to bury myself in food, despite everyone trying to talk to me. I wasn't sure if it was because I was a Weasley, or because I had Veela blood in me—or both.

I tried to hang around Victoire, but she was a second year—she already made her group of friends. With her impossibly silky silver hair, freckles splashed across her nose, naturally rosy lips, and beautiful blue eyes. It was obvious who got the most of the Veela blood.

I stared longingly at my beautiful sister, the scent of thick jasmine coiling around her. Her blonde hair was scooped into a gorgeous ponytail, not a strand out.

I ferociously loaded sausages, sunny-side eggs, and hot, fluffy bread onto my plate, and angrily piled ketchup on my sausages.

"Whoa, there," A soft voice said. I whipped around, as if daring for someone to make me angry, but softened when I was staring into the face of a rather handsome boy. I know, I know, I'm merely eleven. But I got a hand of Aunt Hermione's Muggle books, **_When Will I Go Through Puberty? _**and I was the approximate age—for hormones and puberty.

"Hi," I squeaked. See? The Hat was a definite mistake. If I were Victoire, I'd confidently flip my hair, plump out my chest to show my pricks of boobs, and give him a smirk—"I see you're allured by the Weasley genes."

But I didn't have beautiful, silky, thick blonde hair. I don't have gorgeous, clear blue eyes and long legs. I bet I don't even have Veela blood in me.

"I see you're… mad." The handsome boy sat down, smiling at me. "Tell me why."

I licked my lips as I poured pumpkin juice into my goblet.

"W—Well… I'm not a Gryffindor. I always wanted to be a Ravenclaw. All of my family were, or are in Gryffindor. My uncle Ron, Victoire—"

"—Victoire's your sister?" The boy asked as he moved his plate, popping a piece of kippers into his mouth.

"Y-Yeah," I said. "The beautiful, o' great Victoire." I sighed. It felt good to sort of mock her. Instantly, I felt bad.

"I… admit, I get jealous of her sometimes. It's bad—she's my sister. I love her. But I can't help but dislike her sometimes."

I glanced at his tie.

"You're a Hufflepuff," I muttered, burying my head in my arms, miserable. "Everyone's in a great house—and what am I? A stinking Gry—"

"Oi, it's not that bad," The boy said. "And I didn't want to be a Puff. I swore I was a Gryffindor."

I looked up.

"Switch?" I offered. He chuckled as he thrust his hand.

"Alexander Wood," He said, smiling. I pranced up. "Wood? As in, Oliver Wood?" I whispered excitedly.

He gave me a grin, but didn't answer.

"You're an ickle firstie, right?" He asked, cocking his head.

"Yeah. You?" I asked, slicing a piece of sausage-soaked-in-ketchup, and dropped it in my mouth. The House Elves are wonderful cooks.

"Second. Same as your sister."

I slumped in my chair. So, he's older than me. Wonderful.

I shook my head. _How stupid am I? Teddy's parents had a huge age gap. Aunt Gin and Uncle Harry were a year apart. _

I was about to ask him if he knew her—if he liked her—when a voice rang out.

"Alex!" A voice rang out. Alexander whipped around—as did I—and a Hufflepuff boy was making his way over to him.

"Oh, hello, Dom," Teddy said, ruffling my hair playfully. I scowled at him, trying to smooth it, but it was no use.

"Alex, we're going to study with the Ravenclaws. You coming?"

Alexander glanced at me.

"Sure," He said.

"C-Can I come?" I asked timidly.

Teddy shot me a sympathetic look, ruffling my hair again.

"Sorry, kiddo. But it's for second years only."

Teddy ran his hands through his light blue hair—did I mention he had an awesome power, Metamorphmagus—which turned his original shade, a sandy brown.

"Oh," I said softly.

"Sorry," He said again. "You're just a kid. Come on, Alex." He beckoned him over. Teddy smiled at Victoire, before leading Alex out the Great Hall. Before he did, however, Alex smiled at me. "I'll see you later!" He called as he slipped out.

I sighed. Two things I realised: I made a handsome friend—I one up'd Victoire. Two? **_I'm just a kid. _**


	2. First Year II: Just a Kid

**Disclaimer: Not mine-my story, not my verse. Belongs to JK Rowling. **

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**_Chapter Two: First Year II: Just a Kid _**

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"Alex!" I screeched, "Put me _down. _Go to the Hufflepuff clan, now! I need to—"

"Oi, hush up," Alex said as he let me fall on a large snowman.

"Hey!" A third year whined.

"Sorry," I said thickly, as Alex pulled me up, muttered a spell, and smiled as the snowman came back to normal.

We ducked down, and waddled away.

"I can't wait to go back home," I said, a bit miserably as I entered the Great Hall. I slipped into a seat, with Alex in pursuit.

"Oh, don't be mad," Alex crooned, "It'll be fine. It'll be fun—"

"Twelve kids," I said, "Not including the adults. 'It'll be fun'. Can't I go with **_you?_**"

Alright. What you might say—or think—is that we're dating. Well, get your head out your prat. I'm eleven, he's twelve, turning thirteen in a few months. Me? I'm turning twelve on Christmas.

It's been quite a few months—alright, maybe two or three—and Alex and I have grown quite close. He was my best friend, despite his handsome appearance, the way he swoops down on the broom.

I thought I had won one thing—I _had a handsome, popular boy as a friend. _But, no. Victoire had to one up me again. I remember it clearly, though I wish I wouldn't. Victoire had gave me a grin around October.

* * *

_**"You having a hard time? I heard you were doing excellent in Charms."**_

I had given her a grin.

_**"Oh, yeah. I love Flitwick. Would've been better if I were in his house—Minnie doesn't even like me. Slughorn says I need help… History of Magic is quite interesting…"**_

I was giving her a summary of my classes, when someone waltzed up to Victoire, put a hand on her shoulder, and grinned, ruffling her hair.

Victoire didn't scowl like I did.

_**"Why aren't you helping yourself to sweets?"**_ He questioned her.

_**"Because I'm talking to my baby sister,"**_ Victoire said, gesturing to me. I scowled at the term, _**"baby"****.** _Since when was I a baby?

Teddy finally noticed me.

**_"Oh! How's life at Hogwarts, kiddo?"_**

I crossed my arms.

**_"Fine. I made a new friend. Alexander Wood."_**

Victoire perked up. **_"Really?"_** She said,_** "That's interesting."**_

I swore she looked jealous. Now that I'm thinking of it—it makes me feel guilty—I had felt a pang of pride. She was jealous. _Because I was friends with someone popular. _

* * *

That's when I realised it: she had Teddy as her furry friend. The cool, popular, smart, Metamorphmagus, who had parents who fought, and died in the war; the guy who was the best at Defense against the Dark Arts.

I sighed, thinking of it, and simply got a mug of eggnog.

"I'll miss this place," I said longingly.

"You'll come back in two weeks—shouldn't you be happy?"

I gave him a grateful smile.

"You staying?"

"Nah," He said. "My parents want me to come—to celebrate the handsome, perfect, 'Oliver Wood II'."

I studied him, but didn't push it. Maybe he had sibling problems, too.

* * *

"Dom!" A voice cried out. I whipped around, only to find my sister, Victoire, grinning crazily. She was twelve, still beautiful. It looks like she already went through puberty.

"Oh, hi," I said, giving her a grin. "Excited to go to the Potters?"

"Of course. Teddy's coming."

I cocked my head at her.

"You like him, don't you?" I asked. "You fancy him! Wait till I tell Uncle Ronnie—"

"**_No,_**" She said sternly, grabbing my wrists. I stared at her. She never looked so mad.

"Ron'll tell him. I don't fancy him, alright? Please—don't tell him."

I gave her a stiff nod, perplexed—was it a big deal?

I loaded my trunk into the train, deciding to sit with my sister. Molly Weasley and Lucy slipped into the compartment, as well.

"Oi," She said, grinning. I nodded to her as I took out a book on Charms.

"Christmas, eh?" I said softly. "It'll be… 'eventful.' Next year, I'm staying."

"Oh, Dom," A voice sighed. I whipped around, only to find Victoire and Teddy. They sat down next to me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Why don't you like family? It's so… _awesome. _Honestly, if anything, I wished to go home."

"And leave Hogwarts? To talk with Dumbledore, Snape—the other Headmasters and Headmistresses? To leave the sounds of Exploding Snap, the delicious food, the House elves—"

"—I agree with Dommie," Teddy said as he ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair. He looked good with it.

"I mean, I'm a Hufflepuff, so it's right next to the Kitchens. I always give the Elves something in exchange for a piece of bread or biscuit if I want a midnight snack."

I grinned triumphantly, but Victoire simply shook her head, smiling to herself.

The conversation continued—Teddy would invite his grandmother—and I wanted to nod off, when the train finally stopped.

Relieved, I got up, throwing my bag over my shoulder. My mouth already watered at the thought of the food.

I walked off, trying to avoid getting trumped on by the older kids. I weaved my way through, tucking my short hair behind my ear. I miraculously made it out. I felt the snowflakes fall on my chin-length auburn hair; the smell of hot chocolate made me feel giddy. I didn't listen to the yells of, **_"Dom, wait up!" "Dom, wait, you could get trampled on by Muggles—"_**

I didn't much care, until I heard a familiar voice of, "Dom?"

Alexander Wood smiled at me.

"Alex!" I screeched, hugging him. "I was looking for you!"

"Likewise," He said, smirking. "Let's go. Let's do it quick."

Before I realised it, he was forcing me through the platform. Still wary about it, I tried not to scream. I felt warmth wash over me, and I heard Alex laughing—a bit too much.

"Did you see your face, Minnie?" He asked, and attempted to do an impression—clenching his jaw, his eyes squeezed so tight, I didn't see it, and fear plastered over his face.

"Oh, hush up," I said, smiling, as I slipped on my mittens, running my hands through my chin-length hair.

"I'll miss that feistiness, Veela," He said.

Over his shoulder, I spotted a happy looking couple—a man with broad shoulders, and a **_PUDDLEMERE TRAMPLES _**shirt that was in aqua and silver, with shaggy brown hair—rather attractive, yes—and a beautiful woman with chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes.

"Those are your parents?" I asked, trying to conceal the sorrow in my voice. I didn't succeed.

"Oh, kiddo. It's fine—_you'll _be fine, yeah?"

"Whatever," I said, a bit sniffy on the name, 'kiddo.' I was growing boobs—I was twelve in a few weeks. I was _not _a little kid.

I watched him hug his parents, gesture to me—I gave them a little wave—and walked off, looking for my mum. My father was busy at work, and my mother worked at the Department of Law, but had time to be a housewife.

I smiled at her, wrapping my arms around her.

**_"Comment était-il? Où sont mes lettres?" _**She asked, staring at my freckles, patting my chin, peering anxiously at me.

**_"Je vais bien, maman." _**I answered softly, smiling at her.

She buried my face in her chest, which was frustrating, seeing how she had large breasts.

"**_Dom! I told you—I called you to not wander off. You could've gotten hurt!_**" My sister, Victoire said. She quickly greeted mother, then turned to me.

"I, as your older sister, need respect. Why didn't you stop—the Muggles… they could've noticed you—"

"—'Ou wandered off by _vous-meme? _Why, _fille?_"

I wanted to strangle Victoire, though I knew it was for my safety.

"B-Because… I was so excited… I saw my friend, Alexander—"

"'Ou have a boyfreend? 'Ou are only eleven! Shall I punish 'ou?"

"N-No—"

"'Ou are just a kid!" There goes that low blow. That I'm a mere kid.

"Honestly, Dom, you are a kid! My baby sister! _You need to watch out._"

They were all over me, engulfing me up, eating me… I couldn't stop it. They were screeching that I was just a kid. Was that all I was? A kid?

I promised myself—that I would change. **_For the better. _**


	3. First Year III: Transfer

**Disclaimer: **Dang it. You guys caught me through my Joanne mask and blonde wig.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you, very much, **BECAUSEIMCLEVER12 **for being the first follower and favoriter of my story. I can already tell she's an awesome lassie.

Also, I shall be doing a Trivia Question each chapter. Whoever gets it right, shall be featured on my story. :D

**Trivia Question: How old is Harry at the end of the book? **

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**Chapter Three: First Year III: Transfer**

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"Dad!" I tackled my father to the grown, sobbing. "I missed you."

Alright, I admit. When I saw my father, I nearly broke it.

He was still a redhead. I don't know what spell he used, because he still looked a bit young, and could move like it, too. He removed the silly earring he used to have. After the war, he became an Auror. He usually does paperwork, and then plunges into adventures—he sometimes goes with his brother, Ron, and Uncle Harry. Last month, he detained—singlehandedly!—a potential dark wizard who was trying to attack wizards. He simply casted a spell, (I didn't recognise it when he said it) and the wizard was detained.

I adored it when he came home with scratches as my mother scolded him for "being dangerous", got her wand, and performed a healing spell, and he sat on our large sofa and excitedly told us the exciting, adventurous stories.

Today, however, he looked grim.

"Dad, what's wrong?" I questioned as he took Victoire's arm.

"Hold tightly," She instructed, and I clapsed my arm around hers, squeezing as hard as I can. I felt something flutter in my stomach, and I felt myself whizzing—as if whizzing through time.

We landed in front of our house; after I was born, they decided that we had to move. It was a nice neighborhood in Cokeworth. A few Muggles lived there, however, so we were forced to be careful with Apparating. We had to Obliviate tons of Muggles.

We entered our house quietly, curiosity engulfing me.

"What's wrong?" I finally asked as we entered our house. He collapsed on the sofa, running his fingers through his long, red hair.

"L—Look," He said, his voice quivering, "Times… are tough, now."

I bit my lip. Were we getting evicted?

Apparently, sisters think alike. Victoire was much braver than me.

"Are we losing our house?" She asked. I tucked a strand of short red hair behind my ear. (I never really enjoyed my red hair. Sure, it was the mark of the Weasleys. But have you ever seen a Veela with red hair? That's why Aunt Gabrielle is Victoire's godmother. She loves her more because Victoire resembles her.)

"No, no," My father assured us quickly. "Something… happened at the Auror office."

I bit my lip, bracing myself.

"Voldemort's back?" I blurted out. I couldn't bear—oh, it'd be horrible! If he was back—Uncle Harry would be… Cousin **_Lily! _**

Dad gave Mum a worried glance, then took my hands.

"Dominique," He said slowly, "Victoire was named for, 'victory.' I saw Uncle Harry kill him—_he's gone. _Forever, alright?"

"B—But what about those Death Devourers—"

"Nope," He said. "All gone."

I nodded, feeling relieved.

"At the Auror office, someone was viciously murdered."

We gasped at the sentence. Fear stroke me.

"_What_?" Victoire whispered.

"It was a very, very, dark spell we couldn't recognise—we took him to the Healers so we could find out. It's not Avada Kedavra. It looks like he's been tortured with the Crucio Spell, then hit with the next. How they got in, I don't even know. We… we think there is a mole."

I ran my fingers through my hair.

"So—what's going on?" Victoire asked, peering at my father anxiously.

"Your mother was… hired to be a researcher. We're really down on the Healers—most of them aren't researchers. Your mother has medical background. She'll be a Healer."

Mum sat next to my father, taking his hands.

"We'll 'ave to ahjust to this, now. I weel be out and so weel 'our father. So, wee have decided that 'ou weel be staying with the Wheezleeys."

We gave them a blank stare.

"Which one?" Victoire asked finally.

"Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione," Our father answered finally.

I wasn't sure whether to groan, be sorrowful, or be happy. Ron was fine, and so was Aunt Hermione—but they were a bit mad.

"Why can't we live with my godmother?" I asked, knitting my eyebrows together. AUNT Ginny was a former Quidditch Player, and I wanted to know as much as I could with Quidditch.

"Because she already has two kids—one who is a troublemaker, the other's very whiny. She can't—"

"I'll start packing," She said, and trudged upstairs. Wondering what was wrong with her, I followed in pursuit.

* * *

The green flames barely touched me as I felt myself grow light. I ended up in another chimney that wasn't out. My face had soot smeared over, concealing my face-freckles.

I took off my cloak, and looked around.

"Welcome to our home!" I heard a familiar voice. Aunt Hermione peered anxiously at me. Her hair was in a bun. It had lost some of its frizz, I heard, but still had its bushy self. She was able, however, to slip it into a ponytail. Her warm, chocolate brown eyes were on me, and she gave me a grin.

"Aunt Hermione," I said gasping as I wiped soot off my face, "Y—You… you look—you're a _housewife?_"

"Oh, no," She said, shaking her head, "I would never. I am, however, being given a vacation."

I gave a grateful grin. Victoire came in second, and immediately hugged Hermione.

"Where's Uncle Ron?" She said, gasping.

"He's at the Auror Office." A smile wiped off her face. "I take it you—"

"Yeah," I said, my features growing sorrowful. "Mum is going to research on the body."

"I'll have to research the evidence," She said, tucking a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Tomorrow, actually."

I peered around the house. It was very nice and cosy looking.

"Where'll be spending our Christmas?"

"The Burrow," Hermione said excitedly. "I can't wait to see what Molly's cooking u—oh! Silly me!" She slapped her forehead. "I forgot to owl her to tell her we're coming. Please, excuse me!"

She disappeared from view, to the sound of hooting, and I fell on the leather couch.

"Don't you like it, Vic?" I asked her, wiping soot off my nose.

She nodded, but she was silent.

She patted her tawny owl softly.

"I have to go Owl my friends," She said. She took out a roll of parchment, ink, and a quill, took her owl cage, and slipped away.

"I guess it's just you and me, Athena," I said, sighing as I patted my eagle owl. She hooted in response, and I felt as if I were nodding off, plunging into a new sleep.


	4. First Year IV: The Hard Crush

Disclaimer: _**JK Rowling is not I. I am not JK Rowling. Thank you.**_

_** THANK YOU ****R****AQUELLAISM **for following me. You are literally perfection for being a second follower. I hope there is a third! :) _

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**Chapter Four: First Year IV: The Hard Crush **

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"Ron, _please_ fix your hair," Hermione said, pursing her red lips as she performed a nonverbal spell. His hair became smooth and neat.

"Thanks, 'Mione," He said, fixing his tie.

I was waiting for Victoire—who was she trying to impress? James?

I snickered at my joke.

A gasp filled my ears as Hermione stared at a figure walking elegantly down the stairs. Her silver hair looked extremely silky as it fell mid back. Her violet blue eyes was coated with mascara and eyeliner. I felt like I was… **_blinded _**by her beauty. Veelas should _never_ wear makeup—it'll be a horrible, yet beautiful combination.

Her silk green robes looked gorgeous with her blonde hair. I wanted to braid it—her freckles looked great with her, unlike me. I gaped at her.

"V—Vic! You look **_breathtaking!_**"

"Thank you," She chirped softly as her heels clinked to the floor.

"I—I want makeup," I blurted out, causing Hermione to look at me.

"W—What? Why? A girl shouldn't need makeup. You look beautiful without it."

I didn't believe her. She was a feminist, anyways. I glanced at myself. An ugly Muggle dress. I wanted to cry. **_She beat me, again. At beauty, at clothing, at... everything. _**

* * *

The Burrow was full by the time we entered.

Molly Weasley immediately seized me, and tackled me.

"You are too skinny! What is Bill thinking? We have some pork chops—"

"—_Grand-Mere, _I'm fine. I'm hungry—"

"**_You look amazing, Victoire!" _** Grandma Weasley said, moving to hug Victoire, "Where'd you get that? Fleur? Well, darling, you look amazing—and awfully thin, too, why don't you eat—yes, that's it, Teddy's here—"

I perked up. Teddy? I was still angry at him for calling me 'kiddo' but better him than Grandma Weasley hunting me down to eat. She always wants her grandchildren—and children—to eat.

"Charlie, you're looking awfully thin, we have mashed potatoes—"

I ducked from the arms of Weasleys, venturing out for Teddy. Instead, I stumbled upon **_Grand-Pere_**, who looked awfully cheery.

"Oh, hello, Dominique," He said, smiling, "How are you, today?"

"I'm fine—Happy Christmas, Grand-Pere."

He smiled at me, and then frowned.

"I take it that you… heard about the man—"

I frowned, as well.

"Yeah," I said as I sat on the couch. He offered me a mug of hot chocolate, smiling at me.

"Well, be aware that your father is a talented Auror. After the war, they were nearly begging—well, I shouldn't brag. Your mother is an excellent Healer, remember when I fell down the stairs—yes, yes…"

He was rambling. I ruffled his grayish, reddish hair, and grinned at him.

"Grand-Pere, **_honestly_**, you forgot to greet your daughter-in-law and son!" I said, chuckling as he looked worried.

"You don't mind staying by yourself?"

"No, not at all."

"Splendid." With the speed of a ten year old, he sprinted away.

I smiled at myself. Victoire was in the distance, talking excitedly with everyone. No doubt were they complimenting her.

I ran my fingers through my curled red hair—which now looked even shorter, when someone sat next to me.

I turned around, and grinned when I saw Teddy.

"W—What're you doing here?" I asked.

"I went to greet everyone, and never saw my favorite little girl."

I glared at him.

"I'm **_not _** little girl," I hissed.

"Oh, I s'ppose you're not. I wish it was Christmas at Hogwarts, so I could go to Hogsmeade—it's incredibly nice there, honestly—the Three Broomsticks has a large Christmas tree, Butterbeer—"

I stared at Teddy, his blue hair messy—yet, of course, handsome—and his eyes were a mesmerising blue.

I mentally slapped myself.

Bloody hell! **_I'm falling for Teddy, who's practically my cousin! _**

* * *

Author's Note: Shitty chapter, sorry. But I'll make it up to you. It'll progress. I've decided to make this like a Petunia/Lily thing, except that both are wtiches, and the other isn't mean to her sister. Chapter five'll be another First Year chappie, then the sixth chapter will show her second year. Yes, it'll progress. Yes, when she's third year - seventh, it'll show much more longer, now that she's much more of an adult, etc, able to endure romance and... swear.

Sorry this chappie was short. :c However, THANK YOU **R****AQUELLAISM **for following me. You are literally perfection for being a second follower. I hope there is a third! :)


	5. First Year V: Exams, Fights, and Noogies

Author's Note: You _**know**_it's not mine, guys. ;) Anyways, I wanted to thank many happy readers. I reached ninty one views-yay me!-and I have two reviews and five followers.

Thank you **CULLEN CULT**, **JUSTAPOTTERINGGLEEKYSTARKID**, and **MELISSAKATHERINE** for following me. In addition, thank you **MELISSAKATHERINE**, again for reviewing. You are just _awesome! _

Without further ado, here is _When in Doubt, Stupefy, _chapter five. The last chappie of Dominique's first year. It's awfully long, so pardon me.

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**_Chapter Five: First Year V: Exams, Fights, and Noogies._**

* * *

The train back was chaotic. Too many red haired Weasleys squeezing through—another wash of gapes. It's become a tradition now to see if a redhead's a Weasley.

Twice, two fifth years swaggered to me and nonchalantly asked if I were, "One of those Weasleys."

I urged not to punch them in the face after the taller one guffawed, "They produce like rabbits!"

Instead, I had decidedly hiss, "That's an interesting statement, seeing how you are half rabbit, yourself!"

Embarrassed by my horrible comeback, I hid my face as I walked into the train, slipping into an empty, clean compartment, and collapsed on it. What a havoc Christmas.

Embarrassed, shocked, and confused about my feelings with Teddy, I was very tense. Grand-Pere noticed, and had asked me, in front of anyone. I had to think of a lie—that I didn't fell well—so I was excused.

My eyes were on the thirteen year old all night—when he chatted with Grand-Mere, talked excitedly to Uncle Harry about Defense Against the Dark Arts, and held everyone's attention with a comedic story about Quidditch.

He was so alluring! He could change his features; he was _gorgeous, smart, funny, sweet. _

But me? I was just a stupid "kid" to him. A little eleven year old who was no match for the twelve year old beauty on legs.

As I began to tug at my sweater, the door slid open, and a boy slipped in—Alex.

"Alex!" I squeaked, jumping up to hug him.

"Hello, Dominoes," He said, grinning. I crossed my arms, amused by his nickname.

"And why haven't you been Owling me?" I asked, extremely stern.

"Well, we went skiing," He explained, sitting down comfortably.

"That seems splendid," I growled, "I stayed at Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's flat for the two weeks. Did you—"

"—Did I hear about the guy who was murdered by a dark curse? Yeah." Alex's face darkened slightly. "All over the Daily Prophet. Fawn Apollo covered it."

He shuddered slightly.

"D'you think it's… Death Eaters?"

I bit my lip.

"N-No," I assured him softly, though I wasn't sure myself.

The door slid open, and three people sauntered in. I was a bit surprised when I saw them—Victoire, Teddy, and Freddie. I haven't seen Freddie in a while. He's been quiet for a long time. He's also in Slytherin, so perhaps that's why.

"Oi," He said, grinning at me. "Who's the bloke? Is this—_Alexander Wood? _Holy Hippogriffs, he's a brilliant Chaser, honestly,"

And before I knew it, Fred was eagerly shaking Alexander's hand, as Alexander reddened, trying to sputter, "I'm not that good…" whilst he was enjoying it.

I glanced over at Victoire, and trying not to gasp in glee when I saw her scowl. Was she jealous that I was friends with him, and she wasn't?

"Oi, Wood. Why're you even talking to my little sister?" She said, scowling at him. I never seen her scowl. And even then, she was still gorgeous.

He noticed her, and glared.

"Because I can—what, I can't because I'm a Hufflepuff? Or that you don't like me? Does she have to—"

"Honestly, I know you two hate each other, but please!" Teddy snapped at the both of them. "It's snowing at Hogwarts, and we'll be arriving soon."

He shot me a sympathetic look. But I didn't need Teddy's sympathy.

I ran my fingers through my short hair, biting my lip as I leaned back.

"I'm going to catch up on Charms," I mumbled, even though I wasn't even far back. I was, actually, ahead of most students my grade, reaching second year. I suppose I was so desperate for Charms, that I invested my time studying a class taught by the Head of the Ravenclaw house, Flitwick.

I shot out the train. The tension was too thick to merely deal—why did Victoire and Alex hate each other so much?

* * *

I felt extremely glad once I step foot into Hogwarts. Everything was so familiar—Hagrid, who was my family's friend—my two uncles and one aunt. He also was interested in my mother's former headmistress at Beauxbatons.

I felt mousy among the large people again, wishing I hadn't ditched Alex. My eyes grew heavy as I scrambled up the stairs, quickly screeched, "Precandum!"

The Fat Lady glowered at me, and I heard a distant, "Those rude Weasleys!"

I didn't care. All I wanted to do was sleep.

* * *

_Two Months Later – _

"Alright, Dominoes. What does the shield mean, and what are the other spells related to it?"

I crammed my brain for it—what was the ruddy thing, again?

"Er—Protego means, in Latin, 'guardian' or, 'I protect.'" I peered at him for any signs of correctness or incorrectness, but his expression was blank.

"And the other spells: _Protego Maxima, Protego Duo,_ and _Protego Totalum._" I gave him a grin, but he still looked expressionless.

"You missed one. _Protego Horribilis_."

I rolled up my parchment.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

He ran his fingers through his dark hair.

"I—It's nothing. Shall we continue?"

I had a feeling he was lying. And if I knew the truth, I wouldn't like it.

* * *

I stared at my schedule, miserable. It had changed. Potions first, Charms last. What's more, exams are today.

"Don't sweat it," A Gryffindor girl told me this morning as I sipped my pumpkin juice reluctantly.

"I'm nervous, too."

I looked up, and gave her a grateful smile.

"Thanks," I said softly. "I-I'm Dominique Weasley."

I was grateful that her light brown eyes didn't widen in shock or excitement.

"I'm Maryanne White," She chirped.

"Are you a Muggle-Born?" I questioned softly. She frowned.

"Yes," She answered, "But I read on Voldemort—"

"Oh—no, no—I'm not prejudice or anything." I gave her a reassuring smile. "So, why haven't I seen you around?"

"You _have_ been hanging around Alexander, that Hufflepuff boy," She admitted timidly, "And you haven't been engaging in the girls' dormitories."

I stared down, disappointed. That's why. I've only got one friend—I needed to make more. Perhaps take a break from having one friend, and add another one—or two.

If I were to glance at the Hufflepuff table, I would've saw Alex staring longingly at someone—_Victoire. _

* * *

"Al?" I called out. He said he'd be in the Owlery. I had to Owl mum and dad, to see how they were. I looked around, until I heard voices—two, in fact.

"Why'd you Owl me, you prat?" I heard a familiar voice.

"Because, I need to talk to you,"—was that Alex?

"About? You know I hate you terribly. So walk off, you git!"

"Why do you hate me?" Alex asked desperately to the mysterious girl—if only I could steal a peek…

"Do you not remember? You're that pranking git—you dyed my hair blue in the dead of the night. You—you slipped a Veritaserum potion in my pumpkin juice, and I got detention for calling Slughorn a walrus. _And you're asking me? _You're cocky, you're such a git, and—"

"I like you, Victoire." Alex burst out suddenly. I tried not to gasp. _No, no, no. This cannot be happening! My sister one up'd me again! A popular, handsome boy likes her—doesn't everyone? _

Why was my sister perfect? Why was she better than me in everything? She was smarter, prettier. She's incredibly nice and popular.

"I hate her," I screeched to myself. Unfortunately, I said it aloud.

"Who's there?" Alex said sharply. I didn't have my wand with me—and I couldn't hide.

"Dom? Were you _spying _on us?" Victoire asked, as if she were horrified.

"I **_hate_** you," I said, unable to control myself. "Why do you have to beat me at _everything?_"

"What do you mean?" She was, frowning.

"You're prettier, smarter, better than me at _everything! _You got the most Veela blood, because you're the first child—you're perfect! Mum loves you more—"

"You know that's not true, Dominique," Victoire said sharply.

"You have a better name! You were born on the defeat of Voldemort! _And me? I have a freaking boy name! _Without seeing me, when people hear me—they think I'm a _boy!" _Tears were coming to my eyes as I thought about it, and screamed it.

"I'm the skinny, bony little redheaded freak with chin-length hair and not a body part without freckles! I'm a late bloomer—you're the gorgeous blonde girl who gets everyone's attention! You're the child with Veela hair in her wand! And what do I have? _I don't have Veela hair in my wand!" _

I wanted to crumble up and cry. But I wasn't finished.

"And then, Alex, the popular boy who everyone loves, likes you. I bet Teddy _loves _you, too, huh?"

I didn't even see their faces. I whipped around, and practically flew off, tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn't care about the people who snickered at me. I practically sobbed everything to the Fat Lady, who tried to pat me.

"It's alright, dear," She said, "All you have to do is—ignore the boys. Women don't need 'em, do we? Focus on your school work—become a Charms professor, or an Auror, better yet."

I sighed as she let me in, and trudged into the dormitories, and collapsed on my bed. What a day.

* * *

I set my quill down. I wanted to jump up and shoot sparks—perhaps hex a few people—but then realised—who'd I spend it _with? _I'm not on speaking terms with Alex, and I'm not on Victoire's terms.

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair as I trudged out the door, feeling sorrowful and depressed.

All I wanted to do was relax and eat—then sleep, and repeat. I never wanted to touch another book again.

I piled fruit on my plate, and stabbed my apple slice, glowering at it.

"Hi, Dominique," A voice squeaked. I whipped around, only to find Maryanne grinning at me. Her brown hair was scooped into two pigtails. She clutched a croissant in her hand.

"Hi, Mary," I said politely as I forced a grape into my mouth. "Did you pass out from the exams? **_I _**nearly did."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I started sweating profusely during Potions—that ruddy thing. All I could hear was the scratching on parchment. I wanted to **_die._**"

I smiled at her.

"So, d'you think you did well?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I think it's great enough to pass. I crammed into my studies so much, all I had time was to eat, study, sleep. Studying was priority. Honestly, are they trying to make us lose our hair?" She shook her head.

I grinned at her. Maybe I found my true friend, after all.

* * *

The last day of school was… a bit odd. The night before, I had stuffed all of my necessities into my trunk, and slipped my wand into my skirt pocket.

Mary was having trouble waking up, so I was forced to do the Wingardium Leviosa charm on her clothing. She was merely floating before she realised what she was doing, and crumbled to the floor. I bit back a giggle as she glowered at me.

"**_Not _**funny," She growled. I sniggered behind my hands. "It is. Anyways, you need to pack and get ready. I'll save you some food, alright?"

She dusted off her pajamas.

"Thanks," She said and disappeared into the bathroom.

I walked into the common room, feeling giddy, yet sad—I'd be leaving for _two _months. For that duration, I'll be with the Weasleys. There's no telling what'd happen—whether my mum found out what the curse was, or if Uncle Ron will ever get his license.

"Dom, wait!"

I whirled around, only to find my sister, Victoire. She peered at me.

I felt my cheeks grow hot and red—redder than my hair. I stared at her.

"There's a ton of things I want to say, Vic. But I want to apologise. I'm not sure what _possessed _me to say those mean things. I'm—I don't hate you. At all. I love you dearly—so much, that—"

I was interrupted by her tight hug.

"Oh, Dom!" She shrieked. "I love you, too! I love you more than you know it! But don't think that I'm better than you. You're better than me in Charms."

I raised an eyebrow at her, not quite believing her.

"And—I don't like Alex. And Teddy doesn't like me."

I shook my head, smiling.

"It's alright! I'm fine. I made a new friend, Maryanne White. You could Owl him all you want. I'm twelve, now—not fifteen."

She bit her lip.

"Walk you to the Great Hall?" She offered.

"Sure," I accepted as we slipped out the Common Room. I grinned at the Fat Lady—she shot me a wink—and the smell of bacon, kippers, soft bread, and soup filled my nose.

"Miss Weasley!" McGonagall said, surprised as I lunged forward, squeezing her in a tight embrace. "It's inappropriate to hug your Headmistress!"

"I—I'll m—miss y—you," I sobbed, "I—I'll miss y—your st—strictness."

To my surprise, McGonagall put a hand on my back, embracing me.

"And I'll miss your Transfiguration blowups."

I gave her a tearful grin.

"Now, run along. I believe you have your friend, Miss White and Mister Wood waiting for you."

I frowned at the mention of Alex, but then gave her another grin.

"I'll see you September!" I yelled as I pulled my trunk into the train. Sure enough, Alex and Mary were lurking about, craning their necks for me.

I stared at Alex.

"What're you—"

"Oh, you honestly think you can squirm out of my grasp that easily, Dominoes?" He asked, grinning. Before I knew it, I was in his grip as he gave me a rough noogie.

I gave them both a grateful smile.

"Now," He said, "Let's find a compartment before anyone else does."

This _was_ an eventful year—I made amends with my best friend and sister, and I made a new friend. I suppose I'll accept that maybe I'll never be as great as Victoire. But I can be close, and make friends.

Who knows? I never know what second year holds account for me.


	6. Summer Doesn't Belong To Me

**Disclaimer: Well... you know. **

Author's Note: This is a bit short. The next chapter's going to be short, too. These are the summer chapters, don't worry.

* * *

**_Chapter Six: Runaways _**

* * *

"Wake up!"

I buried my head in my pillow, mumbling, "_five more minutes." _

**_"WAKE UP!" _**

I jerked up, shocked, and looked around. My mother was glowering at me.

"We need to 'alk," She told me. Reluctantly, I followed her down stairs, my eyes heavy with sleep.

It was June—glad to sleep late, angry to be away from Hogwarts. Things have been very, very tense. With my mother working twenty four seven, it's been stressful to wake up with both parents gone, forced to make your own food—or order pizza.

I collapsed on the couch, glad to be on something soft.

"Dom," My father said quietly. I sat up, running my fingers through my rats nest.

"Whaaaa?" I said, groggy. I noticed my sister nodding off in the chair—I suppose she was forced awake, too.

"Vic!" Mum said sharply, and she snapped awake.

"There is something—we've gotten results on the dead body," My father said, running his fingers through his long hair, looking quite stressed.

"Wh—what's going on? What're the results?" I asked.

"It's a new curse. We don't know how it arose—or who created it. But it's an extremely dark curse—it's not like Avada Kedavra, at all. According to Fleur, and other researchers. We _don't _know the spell yet—but we know the colour's black. It leaves a very large dark scar on the victim."

I gulped. It sounded very eerie and creepy.

Luckily, a light caramel owl tapped on the window.

"I'll get it," I mumbled worriedly as I flicked it open.

I unwrapped the envelope from the owl's leg and threw it a piece of cheese. It glowered at me, but nevertheless, plunged into it.

**_Dominoes, _**

**_Summer's been a bit shaky. My father's on a business trip to Norway to investigate about the curse. He thanks the Heavens for your mum. _**

**_Anyways do you reckon you could visit my place, or vice versa? That'd be nice. _**

**_Sincerely, Alexander the King (my new name. You fancy?) _**

I smiled at the letter.

"Dad," I said, turning to him, "Can I go to Alexander Wood's house?"

He sighed.

"I'm sorry, Dom, but it's just—what if you get hit by the curse? There's someone roaming around, a very smart witch or wizard and—"

_"This sucks!"  
_I bellowed, glaring at my father. "Can't you Apparate me there?"

"Dominique, 'ou shall not talk to 'our father zat way," My mother scolded but I didn't care.

"So, I'm going to be like a Hippogriff—in a cage? **_FOR THE WHOLE SUMMER?_**"

I didn't wait for a response. I ran up the stairs, wanting to cry. I took out Athena, dipped my quill in ink, and got a parchment.

**_Uncle Ginny, _**

**_I'm cooped up in this stupid house! I haven't seen you since Christmas. Would you mind picking me up—Apparate in my room, please. Thank you. _**

**_Love, Dominique. _**

I didn't stop to think about the consequences. All I wanted to do was the house. Mary was going on a trip to Bulgaria. I bet Alexander's going to have a jolly time. But me? I'm a stupid, ugly Weasley, staying in a stupid house because of a stupid git who shot a curse at an Auror.

"Give this to Aunt Ginny," I murmured to Athena, patting her feathers. She stretched her coloured wings, and flapped off.

"Colloportus," I muttered, hearing the door **_'click'_**, signaling it locking.

I collapsed on the bed, waiting for the note to come back. The Potter Manor wasn't that faraway. It was in Manchester—and we were in Whitefield.

I heard a pounding on the door.

"Who is it?" I mumbled, though I had a notion.

"Vic," Victoire said softly behind the door. "We have fresh croissants," She added quickly. The scent of it wanted me to yank open the door and devour the plush, fluffy French bread, but I steeled myself.

"No thanks," I managed to croak out. "I'm a bit tired—come back later, yeah?"

I heard a muffled response, and footsteps distancing from the door.

* * *

A few minutes later, I heard flapping, and Athena swooped in, dropping a letter in my lap.

I squealed as I tore it open.

**_Dear Dearest Dom, _**

**_Of course, I'll Apparate. I'll tell Harry to brew some tea, the Muggle way. I presume you have your parents' permission? _**

**_I'll pick you up in a few minutes. _**

**_Love, Ginny _**

I sprang up as I took out a parchment, and dotted down a few words.

**_Dear Family, _**

**_I decided to run away. I'd prefer not being a caged animal. I'm twelve, not five. However, mum, if you'd like another kid—that'd be splendid, too. _**

**_I'll be going away with a family member. I shall not tell you whom, or that'll reveal my location. Perhaps they'll let me visit my friends and take me out somewhere fun. _**

**_Thank you for nourishing me for twelve years, _**

**_Dominique. _**

I smiled at it, and set it neatly on my desk. Within a few minutes, my clothes were in my trunk, my wand was in my jeans pocket, and I had a cloak wrapped around my shoulders.

Athena was in her large cage. I felt too giddy.

It all disappeared when I heard footsteps.

"Dom? You okay?"

I panicked. Where was Aunt Ginny? _She needs to hurry…_

A **_CRACK _**popped in my ears, and Ginny appeared in front of me.

"Seems like you're ready," She said. She glanced around my room. I was praying she didn't spot my note.

"Ready?"

"Y—Yes," I said, clutching her arm. Before I knew it, I heard a large **_CRACK, _**and I was gone.

author's note: shitty chapter, sorry, sorry, i know. c: next one will be much, much better.


	7. Punishments and the Curse

_**CHAPTER SEVEN: **__Punishments and the Curse_

* * *

I haven't been in their house in a while. It was a large manor, and very cosy. Cream coloured sofas were here, along with a large, light dining table—the smell of fresh parchment and ice cream filled my nose, and I shivered in admiration.

"I love your manor," I said, amazed at Ginny. "Did you do the decorating?"

"If Harry had done it, it wouldn't be this great," Ginny joked, motioning me to the chair.

"I heard that, Gin!" I heard a flabbergasted voice. There was Uncle Harry, in an odd grandma sweater, his name, **_H _**etched on it. His hair was still messy—did he not know a charm to fix that?—and his bright green eyes weren't hidden behind his circular glasses, despite it being large.

"Hullo, Uncle Harry," I said, waving at him.

"Hullo—where's your parents? I need to… talk to them." His face darkened at the end of the sentence, referring to the curse.

"Did she tell you—she found out it's a new curse."

Harry looked startled.

"Gin, where's my cloak?" He asked softly. "Sorry, Dom. I'm going to have to bail—I need to talk to them—"

"N—No!" I screeched out, "**_No!_**"

He raised an eyebrow, grinning at me.

"And why not?"

"Dad is really busy, and mum—she's looking over the paperwork."

"I could help her—oh, I finally found that dratted coat!" Harry draped it around his shoulders, kissed Ginny goodbye, gave me a brief hug, and Apparated away before I could speak.

**_Crap, crap, crap—this is going wrong. _**

"So, Ginny," I said, "How's the baby—what're you going to name her?"

"Well," Ginny said, shifting her weight, "If she has _my_ hair, Harry wants her to be named Lily, after her mother. If she has her father's hair, then he'll think of something. Probably Jamie, or something." She grinned.

I gave her an uneasy smile as the kettle started screaming.

"Oh—I'll go ahead and pour it for you."

I fidgeted a bit. In a matter of minutes, my family will Apparate to the Potter Manor, and punish me for _life. _

"So, aunt Ginny," I said, "How're you feeling on the man who was killed?"

Ginny hesitated when she spoke.

"I'm—I'm honestly afraid. I've been in the Voldemort war for **_years. _**I don't think he's back—I saw him die—but what if someone else is back? They created a new spell—I couldn't fathom it."

I bit my lip, having her words sink in. Is there a new war for this generation?

I accepted her tea gratefully as I poured two spoonful of sugar.

I sipped it timidly.

"So, how are your marks?" She queried me, struggling to cross her legs with her large, pregnant stomach.

"They're alright," I said. "I'm preferably well in Charms, then Transfiguration."

"That's excellent!" She exclaimed at me happily. I took a large gulp of my tea.

A large **_CRACK_** made me drop it. It shattered to the floor and I knelt over, muttering, **_"Repairo!" _**

**_"DOMINIQUE MOLLY WEASLEY," _**I heard a familiar bellow, **_"'HY 'AVE YOU DEESAPPEARED? WE WERE WORRIED ABOUT 'OU—'OU COULD'VE BEEN KEEDNAPPED OR HIT BY ZE DARK CURSE!" _**

I bit my lip as I saw my mum tower over me, her silver hair in her blue eyes, her pale skin red with fury.

**_"WHAT IZ MORE, WE HAVE FOUND ZE CURSE! ZE MURDERER COULD BE ANYWHERE!" _**

"Hello, Fleur," Ginny said briskly, smiling at her sister-in-law.

"Bonjour, 'Inny. Are 'ou aware zat my 'aughter has ran away to 'ou?"

Ginny shot me a stern look.

"No," She said truthfully, "She said she got your permission."

Fleur slipped Ginny the note I read.

"'Ou are grounded—for **_ze rest of ze summer! _**No Owls, no Alexander or Maryanne! 'Ou you _hear me?" _

I collapsed on the couch miserably.

"But I wasn't free at all," I muttered, "I was like an owl! And at least she gets to spread her wings and fly!"

Mother softened, but not so much.

"Still," She said, "'Ou have to be careful. There iz a crimineel running around. We found the curse, too."

Harry sat down, looking grim.

"I've never seen it before," He muttered, "Must've been new—a new curse, he just invented it. He's really smart…"

"It iz _'__**tenebris caede'**__,_" Mum said grimly, shuddering. "It iz _rather_ unfortunate."

"Wait—why did he target that _one _Auror?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"We don't know," Mum answered. "But 'ou listen young lady, 'ou weel not be meddling in this—okay?"

"But, Mum! Uncle Harry was fighting Voldemort since first year!" I whined. Ginny snickered.

"No," Mother said firmly. "Do 'ou got zat?"

I crossed my arms, seething.

**_"Fine," _**I hissed.

But we all know—you know, and I know—that it's not true.

**_Author's Note:_**Woo-Hoo! Five reviews in, with ten followers. Thank you, a lot! It means a lot to me! Can anyone guess what '_**tenebris**_** caede**' means? Ten points to them for whomever guesses it. Keep up the follows, reviews, and favourites! :D


	8. Second Year I: Chelsea Chase

Author's Note: You know, it's not mine, yada yada yadaaaa... Thank you, _**"EM."**_ for findnig out/remembering what the spell means. Yes, it means, DARK MURDER, in English, which is exactly what it does.

To all who reviewed, _thank you. _I mean, I can't write it all down, but you all are **_EXTREMELY IMPORTANT. _**

**_I don't want to keep you all waiting, so, without further ado, here it is! _**

* * *

_**CHAPTER EIGHT: **__Second Year I: Chelsea Chase_

* * *

I slipped into the seat, staring at the First Years being sorted. I was with my friends—that's all that mattered.

**_That's all that mattered. _**

* * *

Finally, _"Zabel, Esmeralda" _became the last Ravenclaw.

McGonagall stepped up, grinning.

"Welcome, new students, and old students," She cried out, "This year will be a great year—I can see it. First off, the Forbidden Forest is off boundaries—and will not be used for detention no longer. Unless you want to encounter centaurs and malicious creatures lurking around, you shall not go in, unless it's for class.

"Second, it is rather **_fortunate _**that Mrs. Filch is pregnant. In no state to roam the halls, Filch has been on the lookout for new cats in her position until she gives birth – if you have any suggestions, you will be awarded tremendously.

"Lastly, we have a new potions teacher, as a seventh year had rather irrationally blew up a Potion in Professor Slughorn's face. We have – Chelsea Chase, who will fill in his place."

A rather attractive young Asian woman stood up daintily. She was a nice weight, with warm brown eyes, black hair spilling down her shoulder like ink, and an intelligent aura about her. Nearly all the boys in Hogwarts sighed in contempt at her. She sat down, pursing her pink lips, and skimmed around.

**_Where have I seen that face? _**

I scanned my brain, trying to find out—but I couldn't. I've seen her before. I knew it.

"Thank you. Let the feast begin!"

As soon as she finished, food appeared on the golden platters, and smells lured me. I took a bit of chicken leg, roast beef, pork chops, lamb chops—what? I love meat, my dad having cravings for meat—carrots, peas, and a spoonful of Mashed Potatoes.

Mary nudged me, grinning.

"You're _really _hungry, eh?"

"I skipped breakfast," I said, biting into the crisp, golden chicken leg. "I only had a few candies."

Mary frowned.

"That's not good, Dom. You could get really sick."

I shrugged, sipping my pumpkin juice.

"How was your summer?" I asked.

* * *

I returned to the Common Room full, and wanting to vomit—**_what was going on with me, now? _**

This morning, I felt bloated. Then, during the train ride, I wanted to eat the Trolley Lady, and practically threw the sickles at her. And during the Feast, I swallowed everything like a vacuum.

I slipped into the Girls Dormitories, and collapsed onto the bed. The rest of the girls poured in, chattering excitedly.

"Did you see Haleigh—she grew!"

"Tony grew—did you see how cute he was—"

"—Yes, I did! I saw he grew taller—"

"Isn't he thirteen—"

The gossip kept going on. I tuned in a bit, trying not to doze off.

"Did you see Teddy?" Mary's voice cried out. "He is **_hot_**! His blue eyes are amazing, he's gotten taller—"

"How _did _he grow so fast?"

I grimaced. They were talking about Teddy. I did get a peek of him, and I had murmured non-comprehendible words and sprinted off, blushing furiously.

"I saw him over summer, you know," I blurted out. "He's best friends with my aunts and uncles, and sister, Victoire."

They squeaked, asking me dozens of questions.

Satisfied to be washed with fame, I abruptly told them I'll be heading to bed, punched my pillow, and collapsed. As soon as I hit the pillow, I was snoring.

* * *

I woke up with a few girls getting ready. I blinked, and blurted out to a random blonde, "What time is it?"

"Ten," She answered softly as she slug her cloak around her shoulders, and threw on her shoulder bag.

I leapt off the bed—_would I have time for breakfast, even?—_and ran into the bathroom.

"Out!" I hissed at a black girl with brown curls, trying to tame her hair with fail. Only then that I realised it was my cousin, Roxanne—but I didn't quite care. _I had to hurry up. _

I plunge into the showers, not bothering to wash my messy, wild hair, and stepped out, wrapped around. I threw on my robes and stuffed a cloak in my bag, breathing heavily, and ran down the stairs.

Unfortunately, I was clumsy. I probably got it from my Uncle Ron. I tumbled down the stairs, pain entering my body, and fell with a _THUMP. _

"Ouch," I grumbled, ignoring the sniggers from witnesses, adjusted my bag, and hopped out.

I made it into the Great Hall, piled sausages, rolls, a cup of orange juice, and porridge.

"Oh, hello," Mary chirped, running her fingers through her pigtails. "Excited?"

I rolled my eyes.

"To spend Potions with petite, beautiful Professor Chase—whilst every boy is gawking at her breasts? No thanks."

Mary snorted into her pumpkin juice.

Soon, McGonagall dropped a slip of paper near me. I peered at it anxiously, knowing precisely what it was.

I groaned.

"Potions with Hufflepuffs," I mumbled miserably, "At eleven."

The House Rivalry was practically gone, except for the old-fashioned, resentful Gryffindors and Slytherins. We actually got along—the war strengthened it. There were many Slytherins defying their parents, or just fighting for the greater good; in addition, Slughorn was Head of House, and he fought, too.

I was just not good at Potions at all. I blew them up, I confused ingredients—it isn't easy, you know.

"I have Charms with Ravenclaws, first." She said brightly, finishing her orange juice. It refilled automatically.

I glared at her, but looked over.

"Transfiguration with Ravenclaws, next," I added.

We went over our schedules. After a while, the food disappeared, signaling us to move—and the bell rung loudly.

I slung my leather shoulder bag over my shoulder, and rushed to Potions.

I slipped into a seat. Immediately, someone plopped down. I whipped around, only to find my best friend—_Alex._

"Alex!" I squeaked in glee, hugged his neck, "You're here—why? You're a third year—" He blushed a bit furiously.

"I'm not that good in Potions," He said, glancing at his hands, "I—I mean, I—I got a—" He was stammering, looking embarrassed.

Finally, the kids filled in, and we got off topic.

The door swept open, and Professor Chase gracefully walked in, her silk, emerald robes swishing, revealing bits of her legs, her black hair cascading down her back.

"Good morning class," She chirped, grinning.

"Good morning," The class echoed, a bit dreamily. I scowled, taking out my quill. She was so familiar, yet so _mysterious. _I swear I've read her somewhere before…

Her eyes skimmed over to a few people, landing on my cousin, Fred.

"Frederick Weasley, is it not?" She asked softly.

He ran his fingers through his hair, reddening.

"Y—Yes, Professor," He said.

She smiled, flashing him a warming smile, and tapped her wand on the board.

A few words showed up: **_Recapping the Hair-Raising Solution. _**

"We'll be recapping last year's potion," She briefly explained, "Slughorn's told me a lot about how some students had trouble with this and other potions." Her eyes flickered to Alex, and he reddened, sinking into his chair.

I balled my fists—_why'd she have to make him so uncomfortable?_—and bit my lip. I was a bit protective about Alex. I'm merely twelve, and he's thirteen, but still.

"Does anyone know what this does?" She asked. We gave each other bewildered looks—wasn't it obvious.

A small, skinny Hufflepuff timidly raised their hands.

"Raises hair," She mumbled, reddening as Chase smiled.

"Yes—correct! Two points to Hufflepuff!"

"Great!" She chirped.

I rolled my eyes—Cheeky, Chirpy Chase is getting on my nerves.

* * *

"So," I said, trying to smooth my raised hair, not succeeding, "I think you did well."

"I s'ppose," He said. He looked like he was going to burst in embarrassment.

"You did well!" I exclaimed, "You shouldn't be bad—Chase was about to float with her hair rising!"

"It's not that," He muttered. A slip of parchment slapped his head. We whipped our heads to the source, but a girl was lurking away.

"What does it say?" I asked eagerly.

He read it, and looked suddenly giddy. "Nothing," He said, stuffing it in his bag. I narrowed my eyes. Weren't we best friends? Shouldn't we tell each other _everything? _I frowned, but dropped it.

"Listen, I have to go to—er, Care of Magical Creatures. See you soon?"

He sprinted off—in the wrong direction. Where was he going?

**_Should I follow? Or no? _**

Curiosity washed over me. I would be late for Transfiguration, and Professor Polissk is stricgt—but where'd he go?

I took the curiosity side of me, and followed the orange bag—Alex—and peered around. He reached the Owlery—I was about to go in, to peek through, when a hand clapped on my shoulder.

"Strolling around, I see," McGonagall said coldly to me. I turned around, reddening furiously.

"S—Sorry Headmistress… I had to see my Owl, Athena, to Owl my mum—to see how the research is going on…"

Her features softened.

"Oh, Fleur Delacour, yes? She's a brilliant woman. However, skipping to Owl your parents isn't acceptable. During free time, you shall. If I catch you again, it's automatic detention—cleaning the portraits."

I winced at the image of Snape sneering at me—"_Clean my side, and add a dash of black paint to my hair—no, you insolent little Weasley, I said BLACK, not DARK BROWN."_—and nodded.

"Great," She said coolly. "I shall contact the Minister—question Dumbledore…"

Honestly, if she talked coolly again, she'll freeze.

I rushed off to Transfiguration class, furious at my sloppy work.

I yanked open the doors—portraits of Animagus and hurriedly walked in.

"You are late!" The ice queen hissed. Her white blonde hair fell to her bony collar bone. She resembled the snow—with her skin and hair. Her eyes, a white-gray, were glowering at me.

"Why are you late, Miss **_Weasley?_** Do you think because you are a **_Weasley, _**you're royalty? Because your family helped defy the Dark Lord?"

"Yes," I blurted out, before realising what I had said. "I mean, no! Of _course _not, Professor Polissk—I'm just about the same—"

"Then why are you late?" She growled at me, sauntering up to me, her heels clicking against the grounds, twirling her wand.

"B-Because I-I—was trying to spy on my friend," I admitted, stammering in fear. Sniggers pursued, and she looked absolutely furious.

"Five points from Gryffindor for lying and attempting to be a clown! If I get anything out of you, you'll get _detention._"

I wasn't sure why Polissk hated me; probably because she hates every famous person's kid—she despises Alex, and _hates _Azalea Longbottom—along with others.

I had a feeling Cousin James, Albus, and Lily were to have a horrible seven years with Polissk.

* * *

I slipped into class, exasperated, and took out a quill, piece of parchment, and ink.

"You will to be taught how to turn a beetle into a button," Polissk said, straightening her robes. "The incantation is a bit long, so stay with me: '**_pyga ut bruchus.' _**And what does that exactly mean—anyone?"

A tall, pretty black girl with messy hair that was forced into a ponytail raised her hand timidly.

"It means, _'beetle to button.'_" She said perfectly.

"Correct!" Polissk said, grinning. "Ten points to Ravenclaw—thank you, Arianna!"

She gave a sheepish grin, and I dotted that down. This'll be a loathsome class.

* * *

I sipped my pumpkin juice, frowning at Mary's babbling.

"It was rather ravishing!" She said. "Charms was _amazing. _I met a new girl. Madeline Erik. She's absolutely hilarious and we have common interests!"

"Oh, really?" I said. "What is that?"

She bit her lip, and forced a large piece of turkey toast in her mouth to avoid eating. Was everyone keeping secrets from me?

I tucked a strand of messy, untidy red hair behind my ears, sighing in consent.

"I'll be back," I muttered once I saw Professor Chase slip out the Great Hall, into the Main Yard, "I need to ask her about the homework."

Without waiting for a response, I slung my back over my shoulder and followed in pursuit. What was she doing in the vacant Main Yard?

She lingered around the Black Lake, setting her bags down, and glanced around. I lurked behind a tree, my breath short. _What the heck was she doing? _

I bit my lip to try and not to breathe too hard.

Suddenly, something emerged from the Black Lake, and she flung a parchment at it. I couldn't adjust to see what it was—but it was alive.

"Excellent," A hissing voice said, "_This is very excellent… Thank you, Cha—"_

"Where is she?" Chase demanded, venom oozing out her voice. "Give that to her, or I'll personally tell her to feed you to the fucking pigeons—you got that seafish?"

I heard the sound of tentacles, then a shriek.

"What're you trying to do—_read my damn mind? _I have a fucking class to teach—it isn't easy being a Professor, you know!"

I heard the sound of water swooshing.

"_No… I am launching a tiny little sea chip for you—I'll know what's going on… I'll report it to the Mistress… if anyone attacks you… we could get you—"_

"Alright, whatever," She interjected. "I have to go now, alright? I'll see you midnight, tonight—you got that? If you miss, I'll get you. I'll stab you, and cook you."

There was a sound of plunging into the water, and I heard her gathering the books.

My heart thumped in my throat as I pranced silently into the Great Hall, my face red, my heart beating rapidly—_what just went on? _


	9. Second Year II: Secret Revealed

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling's the full owner of HP. **

* * *

**WHEN IN DOUBT, **_Stupefy_ introduces:

**CHAPTER NINE: **Second Year II: Secret Revealed

* * *

My mind swirled with emotions as I dipped my quill and ink and wrote my name, house, and year.

_I was staying at Hogwarts. _

I knew I'd be receiving twenty owls and four howlers, but I didn't quite care. I was tempted; with the smell of thick, fluffy biscuits and the large, 15 foot Christmas tree with sparkling balls of ornaments and the smell of cinder, it was tempting.

I was in the Gryffindor Common Room, sitting by the crackling fire, in an old Weasley sweater, when I saw a glimpse of silver blonde hair.

"What're you doing?" Victoire growled, and I jumped, staring at her.

"I'm reading," I replied innocently, showing her the cover: **_The Veela and the Muggle, written by Mira Skeeter. _**

"Quite a fascinating romance novel, with moving pictures every twenty books—the Veela reminds me of mum, don't you think?" I rambled, and she snatched the book away.

Her blonde hair fell down her bust and she clutched her trunk, her gorgeous Bengal cat curled around her arms.

"_No,_" She said firmly, "We're going on the train!"

"No," I snarled. "I don't want to be eaten alive by the Weasley clan, or Potter clan! I don't want my hair pulled by Albus, and I don't want Grandmere screaming at me!"

"Hogwarts _isn't safe,_" Victoire said, snapping my book shut.

"That being said, let's go."

"I'm staying put," I replied sternly. "I already signed my name."

Victoire narrowed her eyes.

"As your big sister, I order you to cross your name out," She said through gritted teeth.

"And as your precious _baby _sister, I say no."

"That's fine—I'll cross it out for you and explain to McGonagall."

Victoire rose, and I panicked. I had to stay and see the old half-giant, Hagrid, wrestle with the reindeer; I _had_ to catch a glimpse of the glistening unicorns mingling with the reindeer, and I had to catch the old wizard, Santa Claus, gliding through the air on his sleigh-shaped broomstick.

"No!" I screeched, and flung myself at her.

"_Oh no you don't!_" She snarled, trying to fight me off her, but my hands were wrapped around her body and my legs wrapped around her neck.

"I'm staying, and looks like you are too! _The train leaves in five minutes!_"

Victoire started thrashing, trying to throw me off her, but I wasn't taking any chances. I grabbed my wand, trying to think of a spell—I learnt it in my first year.

**_"Petrificus Totalus!" _**

I yelled with all my might—desperation, hope, and—again, desperation.

Suddenly, Victoire's eyes widened, and her hands clamped to her side. Her mouth was shut. The only thing that moved was her eyes, which glowered at me.

"Sorry," I said, giving her a guilty smile. "But I had to. I'll perform the counter curse when the train leaves—two minutes."

She couldn't thrash, but I could tell by her eyes she wanted to move. I felt a bit guilty, but I stored away the gut feeling glancing at the watch.

**_Sixty seconds… fifty seconds… twenty seconds… ten… two… one…_**

I struggled to perform the counter curse, but Victoire soon sprang up, and she glowered at me.

"How—Dare—You!" She boomed. I stared at her guiltily. "Because of **_you, _**I miss the train—don't ever talk to me—ever again—if I see you trying to—**_I will hex you into your seventh year. _**Because of you, I miss Christmas, my favorite holiday. Because of your stupidity—I **_hate_** you."

I blinked at the words. I understood where it came from. But she _hated_ me?

Tears stung my eyes as she stomped off. It never occurred to me how selfish I was; I wanted to achieve my goal, and kept my sister from achieving hers. Her temptation was greater than mine. To see a smiling family again.

I didn't feel so giddy anymore. I collapsed on the couch, my head in my hands, sobbing. **_You ruined things again, Dom._**

I didn't know when or how I fell asleep. But I did.

* * *

I woke up, and nearly fell to the mirror. My hair was a mess, my blue eyes red and blotched, and my skin pale.

Worse of all, however, there was an owl perched on the mirror.

_Oh, no. _

I took the letter from the Owl, and opened it timidly.

**_Daughter, _**

**_How could you—we were extremely worried about you! How dare you not return home, and keep Victoire from boarding the train? And now you two are among the few, alone at the large castle! How dare you!? _**

**_Your punishment continues. Until your third year, you shall never Owl anyone except professors; we'll keep out owls, too. We've collected your ink and quill, so if you dare try to disobey us, we'll know. That's if you decided to come home when school's over! _**

**_Next year, you will always come home. We'll Owl McGonagall, and she'll discuss your detention. _**

**_How could a daughter of ours do this? We are extremely disappointed in you. _**

**_Sincerely, _**

**Fleur Weasley.**

I bit my lip to keep out the sobs. I regretted ever action I did. And what's worst—my mother didn't end it with, 'love' or, 'best wishes'. She signed it, 'Sincerely' and, 'Fleur Weasley'. Not, 'Your mother.'

Tears threatened to escape again, so I stumbled out the portrait. Christmas didn't look so perfect. Biscuits, towering Christmas trees, and McGonagall gone.

I sniffled, trying not to cry. Flitwick, Pomfrey, Pince, and a few other teachers were chatting excitedly, oblivious to what has happened to a student.

I plopped myself on the chair, and from the corner of my eye, I saw a slim, beautiful woman sat down at the Staff's table.

**_Professor Chase! _**

I knew something was fishy about her. I glanced around. A few students were there—most whose parents died in the war, and had no family—and they were staring at the magnificent tree.

I ducked down under the Slytherin table, closest to the Staff's Table ,and strained to listen:

**_"Oh! Professor Chase, you've been having a delight with Potions—yes, poor Slughorn, seems like he won't be better soon, and the medication for him has disappeared—we reckon it's a student, and it's high magic, so we can't summon it—oh, I've been thinking of just being a Charms professor—oh, Chase, you strawberry! I was offering you to be Head of House for Ravenclaw, seeing how you're a Ravenclaw yourself, eh?—"_**

_"It'd be quite lovely, Flitwick—are you sure you do not mind?—oh, that's wonderful! I suppose I have to tell McGonagall I'll accept. 'Scuse me, I'm a bit in a pickle, I'm going off to the lavatory, thank you." _

My eyes widened as I slid into a chair on the Slytherin table, burying my head in my hands.

My breath grew short, and I felt uncomfortable. Chase was going to be Head of House; she'll have power. The utmost respect. And what will she do? Taint the authority?

_Ravenclaw was my favorite house—what if I were in it? _

Grabbing my wand, I ducked down to follow the ink black strands that seemed to cascade beautifully down Chase's back.

I followed hurriedly, my wand in my hand. I was a mere second year. I should've asked Victoire—but she's not talking to me…

And perhaps Uncle Harry?

I slapped my head foolishly.

**_Stupid me. Why couldn't I have been a good girl and went on the train? _**

"Professor Chase!" I blurted out. Chase whipped around, clearly surprised, and stared at me.

"I was confused on the p-potion you brewed yesterday," I lied uneasily, "Can you explain it to me?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Weasley," She said, and I swore I saw her cringe. "Perhaps later? It's Christmas, after all."

I bit my lip. I _had_ to keep her attention. I had it, already.

"But I need an O, or at least an A," I said hurriedly. "Please?"

She was growing paler. She looked sickening. She took out her wand and dug through her shoulder bag.

"S—Sorry," She stammered, "**_I'm busy._**"

Her voice was changing, too; it was a minor change, but I heard it.

"Are you OK?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"'Course I am. I'm simply sick!"

Suddenly, her nose turned thinner. Her hair grew darker, if it was possible, and her eyes slightly changed more narrow.

**_Polyjuice Potion! _**

That explains everything. Her taking Slughorn's job… her arguing with the creature in the Black Lake… not seeing her for a while…

"**_You _**ordered the student to poison their potion purposely so Slughorn would be seriously injured," I hissed in surprise. "You have been using his cupboard to drink Polyjuice Potion—and it was _easy_! Seeing how you had twenty four seven access! _That's _why you've been acting weird. And you've been talking to that creature in the lake, haven't you? _Who are you?_" I said, thoroughly surprised at my confidence and courage.

She was sweating from the excruciating change.

"D—Don't talk to me—" She snarled, sounding almost demonic. Who was she? She bent down on her knees, her face down. Her hair was darker than the night, and fell elegantly to her shoulders. Her face was paler, like china glass—she was slim and delicate.

_Who was she? _

"Who are you?" I whispered fearfully, backing up, my wand in my hand.

She looked up. She was Asian and fearfully beautiful. A sinister smile was upon her lips.

_"Cho Chang." _

**author's note: **Just a little note: suspense, much? sorry I haven't been updating as much as I'd like, but things have been busy, school has been overwhelming. Third week of school in USA, guys. How's it feel?

Also, thanks so much for the reviews! I've reached around 1,438 views, and I'm ecstatic! Thanks so much! I know this isn't as popular as, say, James Sirius Potter / oc or Scorpius/Rose etc... but I love writing on minor characters. It's basically an OC-we don't get much information about them, so we could bend them at will!

Another Q: how'd you like the chapter? I was meant to keep it like this. I know, I know, you'll hate me, but I hope you like it! Questions will be answered on ch. 9. This chapter WAS a little rushed, but I was getting ready to **_go._**Plus Writer's Block's a bitch. :p

_**Also, I rewrote this chapter because I despised the original work. if you read the original, flush your eyes and brain cells please!** _I'm introducing Tate much, much later, and definitely not as Alex's brother. Hell, he may not even be named Tate!


	10. Second Year III: Confrontation

**_Previous Chapter: _**

**_Sixty seconds… fifty seconds… twenty seconds… ten… two… one…_**

**_I struggled to perform the counter curse, but Victoire soon sprang up, and she glowered at me._**

**_"How—Dare—You!" She boomed. I stared at her guiltily. "Because of you, I miss the train—don't ever talk to me—ever again—if I see you trying to—I will hex you into your seventh year. Because of you, I miss Christmas, my favorite holiday. Because of your stupidity—I hate you."_**

* * *

_"__**You **__ordered the student to poison their potion purposely so Slughorn would be seriously injured," I hissed in surprise. "You have been using his cupboard to drink Polyjuice Potion—and it was easy! Seeing how you had twenty four seven access! That's why you've been acting weird. And you've been talking to that creature in the lake, haven't you?Who are you?" I said, thoroughly surprised at my confidence and courage._

_She was sweating from the excruciating change._

_"D—Don't talk to me—" She snarled, sounding almost demonic. Who was she? She bent down on her knees, her face down. Her hair was darker than the night, and fell elegantly to her shoulders. Her face was paler, like china glass—she was slim and delicate._

_Who was she?_

_"Who are you?" I whispered fearfully, backing up, my wand in my hand._

_She looked up. She was Asian and fearfully beautiful. A sinister smile was upon her lips._

_"Cho Chang."_

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE: **Second Year III: Confrontation

* * *

I stared at her. Who was she? I might've heard her over dinner for Christmas and Thanksgiving, but that's hardly it…

"Who _are_ you—who's Cho Chang?" I demanded. I suddenly realised I was talking to a potentially dark witch—_I could die._

The thought sunk in, and I felt my limbs freeze.

"A Ravenclaw—one of the _greatest Ravenclaws to live._"

I stared at her.

"You're summoning the Dark Lord, aren't you?" I asked. "I've got to tell McGonagall!"

I whipped around, sprinting off, but a flash of blue made me freeze.

"No," She growled, "You will _not _spoil this. You shall listen."

A chair appeared out of thin air, and she sat down. She muttered a curse, and ropes sprang to tie me.

"Just in case it wears off," She added.

Tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear, she cleared her throat.

"I'm Cho Chang. The Pure-Blood; my family's practically _royalty. _If you don't know, I was born spoiled, and left my family spoiled. My family went way back to Ancient China. My ancestors invented the _flame-freezing _spell. I'm worth more than the Malfoys."

I felt my fingers move slightly, but I wasn't able to move. It was wearing off—but why so fast?

"My families, however, weren't prejudice. We valued Muggles, Squibs, and Muggle-Borns. Half-Bloods were cherished. We didn't care about status, though we had power in Asia and Europe. That's when I met him—_Harry Potter._"

If I could gasp, I would. My Uncle Harry? _Was he bad, too? _

"In my third year, we played Quidditch against each other. I knew I was extraordinarily beautiful; I knew he had a crush on me in fourth year, when he asked me out to the Yule Ball—"

A soft laugh escaped her lips.

"—if I had said yes, perhaps we'd be together. And married. Instead of him and Ginny. But no; I accepted Cedric's invitation first. Cedric Diggory—incredibly handsome, intelligent, and loyal. But when he died, I was affected greatly."

I felt my toes sprang up to move, and I wiggled them, still listening. Uncle Harry never told me that.

"He was slaughtered by the Dark Lord. That disgusting, repulsive beast! No matter—I was a sobbing mess. I lost many friends. In my fifth year, Harry formed a secret group—Dumbledore's Army. We kissed, and went on a date. My jealousy got the better of me, and we tore apart."

She looked down regretfully.

"Just imagine—you wouldn't have an Uncle Harry, I would've married him—but no matter, anyways. I went on to marry another incredibly rich man, but quite repulsive. Theodore Nott, a gorgeous, rich, cunning man. One day, I went on a little stroll, when I fell down a Muggle sewer. That's when I met her. Mork. She was a beautiful, powerful woman; she was a Squib, to get back at everyone who was repulsive, and needn't not to live and reproduce. So, she gave me a Polyjuice Potion of a dead, unimportant American Muggle, and here I am, in Hogwarts—that repulsive thing you saw me conversate in the Lake was a Grindylow, sent by Mork to make sure I was doing everything right and send messages."

She casted a spell, and I felt my lips move with incoherent questions. Finally, and I managed to blurt out—"So you're killing for no reason?"

"**_Silly girl!_**" She yelled angrily. "No! We're killing for the people who _need_ to be killed. Don't you see? Anyone who's been repulsive, anyone who doesn't deserve to live should be killed! And who should be on my next list? _Harry Potter._"

I gasped, and began thrashing against the ropes.

"But—Why?" I breathed out.

"_He shouldn't have dumped me! _He should've appreciated how much he was _lucky _to have me! I'm basically royalty? And what's he? A lucky baby?"

I stared at her, truly terrified. She now looked deranged. Her pale face was nearly purple, and her dark eyes were flashing dangerous colors.

"So, Miss _Weasley_," She said, spitting out my last name like it was dirt, "You see? We will not only be killing the unimportant people. But the people with _red_ hair, and—or—_green _eyes. Any feature of Harry Potter or a Weasley _shall be murdered._ Mork is an intelligent woman—she'd be a Ravenclaw, I'm certain. She was a Squib who managed to gain powers with a simple spell. She kills, and gains powers. Soon, she'll kill Harry Potter, and gain his extraordinary powers."

She broke out in a sinister smile.

"Now. I shall kill you—_the Muggle way._"

She waved her wand, and a knife appeared in her hand. She stored her wand in her silk robes and prowled towards me.

"It **_shall _**be quick. A quick slit of throat, and you'll be dead in a matter of minutes. Do not move."

I started screeching, _wailing _for help; _I'm dead. I'm dead._

I didn't bother to worry about the tears that were pouring out my eyes so fast. I was worrying was _my death._

Her blade touched my hair, and she grabbed a handful of it. With a slice, it fell to the floor.

I thrashed against the thick, tight ropes, which only created burning pain.

The cold blade touched my skin. I felt like puking as I tried thrashing, moving my head, trying to _move away from the knife. _My jaw clenched, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Why couldn't she just kill me with an Avada Kedavra and be done with it?

Suddenly, I heard a scream.

"_What—Stupefy!_"

The voice was so familiar, I cherished it. The cold blade disappeared from my skin, and I caught a glimpse of Chang's body hitting the floor.

I looked up, only to find silver blonde hair and piercing violet eyes.

"_Dom? _What're you doing? Is this your way of getting my attention?"

She picked up the knife, slashed at my ropes, and grabbed me.

"I—I—" I couldn't speak.

"T—Thank you?" I mumbled unsurely, wiping off my tear-stained face.

She pursed her lips.

"Hurry up before she wakes up. I'll drop you off to Madame Pomfrey, and then go get—er, Flitwick and Hagrid."

She took me to the Hospital Wing, and I collapsed on the bed, ignoring Madame Pomfrey's huffs, and explained to her briefly what happened. She poured a thick, musky liquid in a cup, and offered me to give me a potion to grow my hair back.

"No, thank you," I said sweetly, glancing at the mirror again. "But would you mind cutting the other side off, too?"

My hair didn't fall to my collar bone anymore. It was at the nape of my neck.

I shuddered at the thought of what happened. My near death experience. I saw a deranged-looking Professor Chase—no, Cho Chang— walk past my door, Stupefied and her wand taken away, a rather plant-green Slughorn stammering as he pulled her away, along with Hagrid.

I breathed a sigh of relief. What a day at Hogwarts.

**author's note: **I was trying to make Dom feel like any twelve year old girl would, but I wasn't sure.

Also, I'm thinking of changing Dom's hair to blonde... What do you think? Have her stay the Weasley Wicked Red, or have her have the Traditional Delacour Veela Blonde?

Also, what'd you think about chapter ten? It was rushed and chappy, but I'll continue on. There are two chapters left of Dom's second year, then we brnig in the summer, and we'll cherish the third yearish.

_**Puberty, much?**_

I'm also going to add in Halloween from now on. So the chapters willl be much longer. Oh, and our favorite, forgotten Weasley sister is having a birthday? **_Happy, much?_**


	11. Second Year IV: First Hug of Summer

Still, even after my attack, Victoire didn't conversate with me. Madame Pomfrey forced me to stay for the remainder of the two weeks, only allowing Owls swooped in often—from my parents, including Howlers, and my Aunt Hermione fussed over me, demanding why I didn't tell them—her hand writing was always rushed, but still managed to be neat.

When I was let out, it was around January Eighth. The Daily Prophet was near my bedside:

**_HOGWARTS NOT SAFE? _**

**_A teacher—under Polyjuice Potion—was able to be hired as a Potions Professor, under the alias, "Chelsea Chase." _**

**_Revealed to be Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw student during Harry Potter's days—famous Auror and defeater of the Dark Lord—and former girlfriend. _**

**_She's been apparently working for someone. We're not sure if it is the Dark Lord. She's been caught by a _**second year **_student, surprising, really. The second year student was battered, bruised, and cut. Is Hogwarts safe at all? I'll be getting the scoop soon. Meanwhile, tune in on my sister's channel, WWN to find out more. _**

**_Written by: Faith Skeeter _**

Such lies were told! I was only tied up and Stupefied. That's all.

I rubbed at my scar. It was red, and noticeable against my pale skin. Biting my lip, I walked out the Wing, with Madame Pomfrey calling out, _"do not forget to take your Blood Circulation potion every Monday!" _and I sauntered out.

I stored the Potion away at my robes, and walked off.

A figure loomed to me, and I winced.

"Dom? Are you OK? I was away at the summer—I'm so sorry!"

Mary looked quite pretty. Her hazel eyes were large with concern; her dirty blonde hair was into two large, Dorothy-like braids. She was pursing her lips, and grabbed my shoulder.

"I'm fine," I said softly. "How was your vacation?"

"Fine. I went to New York," She said impatiently. "Tell me what happened!"

So, I launched into a large explanation of what happened; she gasped in a few, listened intently in others, and fell in shock.

"I cannot _believe it_," She whispered excitedly, tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear. "So, Cho Chang—I'm sure I've heard of her. She married Theodore Nott, where he was violently murdered? Wasn't a Muggle framed for it?"

I shivered.

"I don't even know," I mumbled. "I'm just great to have you back. Where's Alex?"

"Not sure. Probably snogging Victoire," She said, snorting. The thought made me feel oddly uncomfortable.

_The image made me uncomfortable. _

"So, are you going back to Hogwarts next year?"

I rubbed my arms together.

"My parents are so bloody protective, I'm not even sure," I said, ignoring the gawks at my chopped off hair, "But I hope I'm home."

Despite my punishment and resentment from my family, I still wanted to smell my mother's vanilla scent, see her chop carrots furiously and slip her silver hair in a bun; I want to see my Dad run his fingers through her long red hair, or fiddle with his earring.

_I miss my family. _

Mary slapped her head suddenly, and took out a wrapped present.

"Here's a birthday and Christmas present," She chirped.

I slapped my head, too.

_"What? _I totally forgot about my birthday." I bit my lip, a bit hurt my family didn't send me a gift, but what could I expect? I did something not only stupid, but wrong.

"Thank you, so much," I said softly, glancing out at the windows. It looked like it was a blizzard, the first blizzard of winter.

* * *

I didn't expect to find Alex hugging Victoire goodbye. I haven't seen him for months. He's been secluded, only going out to eat and talk to Vic; I wasn't sure if they were a thing or not.

I wasn't disappointed, or sad. I was simply fascinated.

I also couldn't believe I was thirteen and chopped off my hair.

I hugged Minerva goodbye.

"See you next year," I said brightly.

"Goodbye, Miss Weasley—I suspect I'll be calling many others '_Miss Weasley'_?" She asked.

"You will," I said, giving her a soft smile.

I boarded the train with Mary, and we managed to find an empty compartment.

I was a bit disappointed I hadn't spoken to Alex for a while. A few months now. But he hasn't been speaking to anyone, really, so it didn't quite affect me as much.

"Owl me every day!" Mary simpered.

"I can't! I'm grounded!" I whimpered, hugging her tightly as I stepped off the train.

"What? You suck," She said, pouting. "I'll see you in two months, then? Perhaps at Diagon Alley?"

"I hope!" I said, sighing. She spotted her parents, waved me goodbye, and walked off.

I sighed, and craned my neck, looking for _my _parents. Where the heck were they, anyways?

I spotted silver blonde hair, and I grabbed my trunk and my owl cage, sprinting towards my mother.

"Mum," I said shyly, "Hi."

My mother turned around, and saw me. She gave me a stern look.

"Are—are 'ou OK?" she asked me tenderly.

"Yes," I nodded.

_"Quelle folie de vous? Tu aurais pu mourir! Ma ans babt douze!"_

"Mum—Mum!" I said as she continued to yell, "I'm fine, alright. No bruises. Nothing. I'm fine."

She grabbed me and hugged me tightly. I felt at home—in my mum's arms.

**author's note: chapter nine might sound a bit confusing, but it's not. I rewrote it, so reread chapter nine so you'll catch up on chapter ten if anyone of you are confused. **

**by the way, ****_1,649 VIEWERS? _****may not seem a lot, but to me, it is! OMG! Thanks, so much! **

_REVIEWERS COMMENTS: REPLY: _

**WhatsTheTimeMrWolf: I know it was unexpected, and I rushed it in a bit. :p But if it's confusing, PLEASEEE reread chapter 9, because I rewrote it because the first draft was so crappy... so I had to reveal CC anyhow, because many of the readers were asking me who she was. :p NOTICE THE INITIALS MATCH: C**ho **C**hang * **C**helsea **C**hase.

**EM - **Congrats! The comment is quite old, but yep! Tenebris Caede means 'dark murder'!

**NicoleTheSmith Awesome! I'm your first story! Well, I fell honoured! Please, if you haven't already, subscribe/follow this story to keep up-to-date on my chapters. Dom is entering third year, which means **_the dreaded puberty! _**She'll also be entering the state of crushes, and her Teddy crush will continue! :) **


	12. Puberty Kicking In

**Chapter Twelve: Puberty Kicking In **

I'm thirteen, so I'm bound to be a victim to puberty.

What I didn't know was that it'd happen so soon.

When I woke up one morning and went to the bathroom, I saw a mountain on my forehead.

_A large, red pimple._

I screamed, waking up my little brother, who was ten.

"What's wrong?" My brother said, tumbling in my room, his large blue eyes filled with worry.

"Look!" I screeched, pointing to my pimple.

He widened his eyes at the sight.

"Whoa. Isn't that like a pimple?"

I nodded vigorously, grabbing my wand, and slapped my face with it. _What charm removes pimples? _

I was overreacting, sure, but this puss-filled pimple in contrast to my skin was horrible. Disgusting.

My mother rushed out in a silky robe, her hair in a "messy" bun, her large blue eyes wide with alarm and concern.

"What's wrong? Should I get my wand?" She asked.

"Mum! I have—look!" I pointed at my hideous mountain, and she looked relaxed for once.

"'Ou have a pimple," She said, grinning, "Oh, it's splendid, 'ow cute! My baby's growing!"

"Uh, mum," I said, "I need some help?"

Suddenly she frowned.

"That is odd," She said. "Victoire had no pimples, neither did I. Gabrielle, however, did. Veelas usually do not have pimples."

"_Well,_" I snapped, "I need to get _rid _of it!" I didn't need a reminder that Victoire was better than me.

"Calm your attitude, _petit_. I will take 'ou Muggle shopping to purchase very good cleansers, OK?"

"Thank you," I said, rubbing my eyes. "Now—"

"_But_," My mum interjected. "This means you are going through _puberte_—ah, puberty. I shall take you bra shopping as well."

I reddened.

"_Mum!_" I hissed, but she skipped upstairs happily.

Louis sniggered from upstairs.

"_Bra_ shopping? _Alors brut." _

I took out my wand and zipped him. It satisfied me to hear a whimper.

* * *

I was angry when my mum shoved me in the Muggle car. I was angry when she guided me to the mall, and I was furious when she gestured to a large store called, _Eagles. _

What kind of store is called 'eagles'?

And when I went inside it, I found sections of bras for all sizes, jeans, shirts, boots, shoes, everything.

My mother shoved me towards the "adolescence" area and I bit my lip down hard, feeling it draw blood.

_I'm not going there. Why—_

"May I help you?" A young, quirky blonde male trotted to us.

"No," My mum said. "We are looking for bras."

I felt myself reddened and I hid myself behind a rack of double D bras.

"Oh! For how old?"

"Thirteen," My mother said. "She is growing breasts."

The young man did not blush. He simply gestured to an isle and walked off to pester and embarrass someone else.

"Why are you hiding, _petit?_ In France, we had no problems with shopping for bras!" My mother scolded, looped her arm around mine, and walked with me to the bra area.

"I shall get you sports bras and padded bras, alright?"

"Whatever," I mumbled. She dropped a dozen of them in my hand and forced me to try it on.

I did, and said they felt fine, and luckily, we got the hell out of there.

* * *

Turns out, I never did get my cleanser. I was begging to go home, and when we set foot in the house, I realized my mistake, but it was too late. I bolted straight into my room, slid the bag under my bed, and ran my fingers hurriedly through my red hair. What a trip.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_I know the chapter's late, I apologize so much... /: but luckily, next chapter will be much better. Thanks for following me! 2,317 views? Jesus, I love you guys! 3


	13. Third Year I: The Not-Friends Phase

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: **The Not-Friends Phase

When I say I've been suffering, _I've been suffering. _

Cut off from the outside world. No fellyvision, no Owling—my mother charmed up my doors and windows so I couldn't receive Owls—it was torture.

I was extremely happy when August came around the corner. My father was happy to take us shopping because the goblins adore him at Gringotts.

I was more than happy to board the train with my eagle owl in the cage, glowering at me. She wanted to stretch out her wings, but mother refused. She didn't trust me—so, Athena flew around the house, and it ended up horribly. Let's just say Louis broke his arm due to her.

"Goodbye mum, goodbye dad," I said, giving them a final kiss and hug. I slipped away, my sister walking towards her friends.

She was starting fourth year, and I was starting third year. Hogsmeade.

_Wait. Hogsmeade—I forgot to ask them for the permission slip! _

I dropped all my stuff, and dashed towards a window. The train wasn't starting yet.

"Mum! _Dad_! The Hogsmeade slip! You didn't sign it!"

A look of realization came on their faces, but my mother looked stiff.

"No," She said. "'Ou are grounded, remember?"

"But, _mum_! That happened two years ago! I was eleven when I snuck out, and I was in second year when I stopped Vic!"

"Still," My mother said, but my father turned to her. Perhaps she didn't know the fun of Hogsmeade because she was stuck at the uptight Beauxbatons.

"C'mon. She's a kiddo. Hogsmeade is _fun_. Look, Dom, we'll Owl you the permission slip, OK? First thing Monday morning."

I was still unsure, but I nodded. I nearly fell when the train went to a lurch. I waved and blew kisses, and picked up my stuff and fished around for an empty compartment.

_Where were my friends? Where's Alex and Mary? _

I was growing nervous. Perhaps I should pick up my stuff and look for them.

Suddenly, a mousy little first year slid open the compartment door and confidently walked in.

His untidy, dark hair looked familiar and his large hazel eyes were filled with mischief.

"Cousin Dom," He said, clearly shocked. "Whatchu doing here?"

"What _are you_," I corrected carefully. "And I go here—oh, yes. I forgot you turned eleven because I couldn't even receive owls!"

"Why didn't you go to my birthday?"

"I was _grounded. _I couldn't even visit my cousin's first eleventh birthday—well, never mind that. Sit, will you?"

James looked unsure.

"I didn't really want to sit—especially with you."

I winced. Ouch. That's got to hurt.

"Suppose you'd want to sit with Vic, would you?" I asked him distastefully.

James must've realized his slipup and grinned.

"Oh, I don't mean that. You _are_ my third favorite cousin, y'know that? I just don't want to hang out with—well, _girls_."

"Oh. Then, I under—wait. Third favorite?" I crossed my arms.

"George is my first, Rose is my second, and you're my third. Vic is my fifth. She's too googly-eyes for Teddy."

"Teddy?" I said, tilting my head. _She likes Teddy? How peculiar! _

"Well, go on, you little rascal. Don't want to miss the trolley?"

"No!" He said. He glanced around, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and dragged his stuff away to find a compartment.

I shook my head, cracked open the Third-Year Charms book, and shrunk back in the velvety seat, when I saw a silhouette out the corner of my eye.

My heart thumped as I whipped around. I, however, saw Mary's face pressed against the glass.

I dog-eared my book and set it down, sliding it open.

"Mary!" I gasped. She looked—well, absolutely _wonderful._

Her cinnamon-colored hair wasn't in braids; it was in intricate waves, falling down to her chest. Her large light brown eyes looked nearly hazel in the large sunlight, and I could see few glimpses of freckles. She looked taller and slimmer and her button nose was absolutely gorgeous.

"_Mary_, you changed!"

For some odd reason, she looked stiff and glared at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Didn't answer my owls, did you? Thought you were too good for a Muggleborn, huh?"

I raised an eyebrow.

_"What?" _

"You never answered _one_ of my owls! You—you're such a… a—_bitch._"

I froze. I felt humiliated. She called me a bitch. Despite being only thirteen, I knew what it was. Muggle girls said it many times. Mother said it to a Muggle banker. And it was very offensive.

I wanted to say something worse, something bitchier to her. But I couldn't bring myself to. The words were dangling in my throat, my brain screaming to say it—**_'say it, you stupid idiot! If she wants to fight with fire, she'll get the flame! Don't let her win!' _**

But I couldn't.

I quietly backed into my compartment, slid the door closed, and buried my nose in my book. A teardrop stained one paragraph. I saw Mary walk away, not looking back once, not even caring if I was crying.

_We were friends when I wasn't friends with Alex. She was there when he wasn't. How dare she back out! When I'm older, she'll regret it. I'll probably be rich. _

I loved to think like that. But I know it won't happen.

I sat there, just staring at one paragraph, trying to curse her in my head.

Due to this altercation—I started a food fight.


	14. Third Year II: Food fights & Detentions

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: **Food Fights, Detentions, and Wailing Wizfurs

Do you know what a Wizfur is? Neither did I, but you'll find out soon.

I was barely listening to the sorting—until Potter came on. I screamed when James got sorted into Gryffindor. The rest, I was just fiddling with a Chocolate Frog card, my uncle, Ron Weasley, biting into a cookie and pointing his wand at the viewer, and then he disappeared.

_Mary's the problem, Dom! How could she leave you, AND call you a bitch? She didn't even know of the situation? _

**_But it's your fault she's not your friend. Why do you have to be so troublesome? If you weren't grounded, you'd have Mary cracking jokes and laughing, maybe even making fun of some seventh years. Why can't you be like Vic?_**

_To hell with Mary! Maybe it's fate. And where's Alex, anyways? _

My minds were at a battle with themselves. But Dom #1 had a point. Where _was_ Alex while I was on the train, doodling of myself dueling Mary? _Where was the prat? _

I peered around the Hufflepuff table, looking for him. That's when I found him. He was laughing with a gorgeous blonde Hufflepuff, her large blue eyes staring at Alex.

_Oh. So he'd trade in his friend for a beautiful blonde trophy. What a git! _

I tore my eyes bitterly away from them and set the card aside, slipping it into my pocket. Perhaps James would want another Uncle Ron. He loves doodling devil horns and mustaches onto him.

Finally, the feast ended. Thankfully, no Zabinis were sprouted, so I was at peace. I already hated Concetta Zabini.

McGonagall made a quick speech, mentioning Hogsmeade like she did every year.

_"Third years, you are now allowed to attend Hogsmeade trips. I promise you all it'll be an interesting, fun-filling trip—"_

I blocked out the rest. I heard it for two years. Do I have to hear it again?

I suddenly realized that the food was on the platter. First years were eying it, their mouths watering. It didn't occur to me, but the sight of food made me famished, too. I quickly piled everything up and wolfed it down. Mary was laughing obnoxiously at a rather handsome boy's joke.

_It's such a fake laugh, _I thought bitterly. _Were they talking about me? They were laughing enough. _

How could she? She didn't know what happened. I could've been kidnapped, killed, MIA, on vacation. _Why would she even do something like that? _

I was just glaring at her bitterly. She felt someone watching her, and turned to me. She said nothing, just stared at me, then returned to laughing at the blonde boy's words.

"Whoa, Dom," James said. "You surely hate that girl."

Did I hate her?

"Yes, I do. So much," I said, my teeth gritted. I was blinded by hate, that I wanted to hurt her. So, I grabbed the nearest thing to me—pudding—and flung it at her.

I didn't know how the Great Hall saw me—was it the scream that indicated it, or just by watching me?

Mary stood up and screamed. Everyone whipped towards her, and saw the white pudding in her hair and her black robes.

"_Dominique Weasley!_" She screeched. I felt eyes on me.

I felt satisfied, but not enough. My thirst for revenge was quenching.

I grabbed a bowl of mashed potatoes and watched as I flung it to her, mashed potatoes soaking her clean.

I said nothing as she grabbed her turkey leg. I was too late to dodge it as she hit me in the chests.

Suddenly, food was flying everywhere, but my only target was _Mary._

I grabbed a piece of pie and threw it at her, pan-and-all. She easily dodged it and grabbed a cub of lime juice. It soaked me instantly, my hair clinging to my neck.

Beef casserole, stew, and peas were over me by the time it happened; mashed potatoes, jam doughnuts, and jelly were all over Mary when it happened. I lunged forward, she lunged forward, and we wrestled, slipping and sliding. Professors called to stop. I was flinging peas at her eyes and she was reaching over for a cup of tea to pour at me. I felt the boiling hot liquid drip down my hair and I let out a bloodcurdling scream, tackling her to the ground, smashing a pie in her face. By the time McGonagall casted a mass _Petrificus Totalus_ on us, Mary and I were both the most messiest victims in the fight.

_"How dare you?" _McGonagall said, her lips white and her face purple with rage.

"_Frighten our first-years like this?_"

Was the old woman blind? Some were frightened, but a mast majority was flinging food and lamp chops at people.

"_We ought to expel every one of you! Now who was the culprit of this?_"

Thoughts raced through my head. Only now did I find the problem of starting this: expulsion, banned from Hogsmeade… _losing points! _

McGonagall knew the answer.

"Miss Weasley and Miss White. You will see me in my office."

Thirty minutes later, we were sitting in a leather chair. Lime juice trickled down my nose and a glop of mashed potatoes fell onto Mary's lap.

"_Why_ did you do this?" McGonagall demanded.

"I—It was the spur of the moment… I… I was…"

"You were _what_? Hoping to spur up a little trouble, a little _drama?_" She bellowed. I winced. She was angrier than ever.

"_Never _in my decades of teaching have I ever stumbled upon this… ballistic, barbaric behavior!" She yelled. A few portraits nodded in agreement.

"Now—why?"

"I was angry at Mary," I blurted out, wiping a glob of pie away from my eyebrows.

"Why were you angry at her?" She asked, twirling her wand around her bony finger.

"B—Because—"

Mary glowered at me, as if daring me to say it.

"She… we—we abruptly ended our friendship." I said, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

"So. A little girl trouble, and you nearly destroy the whole Great Hall?!"

There was silence, when finally, she said, "Alright. I'm going to give you three options. Expulsion, banned from Hogsmeade trips or—detention every Friday for three months."

"_Three_?" Mary and I said in unison.

"You'd rather be banned from Hogsmeade or expelled? Well, I should owl your parents and tell them to—"

"Wait!" Mary said. "We'll—or _I'll _do the detention." She glared at me, pursing her lips.

"I'll do it, too," I said frantically as mashed potatoes fell on my eyebrows.

"Good," She said. "Now, go off, will you? You're stinking up my office!"

I gulped, got up, and slowly walked out the door.

"This isn't over, _Weasley_," Mary growled as she slipped on the floor. I snorted, before I fell on my butt.

"It just began, _White_," I snarled, struggling to get up. We continued slipping and sliding to the Common Room, glaring at each other.


End file.
